


Dead Dandelion

by notalotgoingon



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Angst, Breakup, Drag Queens, M/M, shalaska
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:00:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25630093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notalotgoingon/pseuds/notalotgoingon
Summary: Sometimes, lines have to be drawn between drag personas and real life. Aaron and Justin have always been great with that, until they’re not. Or three instances in which their relationship falls apart and neither can stop it.
Relationships: Sharon Needles/Alaska Thunderfuck 5000
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	Dead Dandelion

Since he turned 21, Justin had been able to draw lines. He knew when to stop pressuring people or when his family needed space. Above all, he understood that when the makeup washed away, so did Alaska. When he started dating Aaron, he felt more comfortable showing both sides of him, the soft spoken, vulnerable boy with short brown hair and the gorgeous glamazon with flowing blonde locks piled high. 

Aaron understood that too. He knew that when the eyelashes hit the counter, every drop of charisma swiftly left his boyfriend’s body, and he became a sweet Bambi with a slight vocal fry. He knew when the white contacts came out, he didn’t have to pretend anymore. Sometimes, they both liked to wear wigs and mark their routines in the tiny apartment they shared, but they were always conscientious of not going too far over the edge.

The first change in their routine happened when Aaron left for California, and Justin tried to carry on. From that point on, blonde wigs were only allowed after eight, and eyeliner was saved until one of his friends hauled him out of bed to perform again.

The second occurred when Aaron came back. He was much the same, bleached hair and a lopsided smile, his eyes finding Justin even in the most clustered crowds, yet both boys knew something had changed. The line between Aaron and Sharon was misconstrued and distorted in both their minds. White contacts stayed in for longer, and his voice never seemed to drop into the familiar soothing tone Justin preferred over a high pitched giggle.

Then, he started to break down more and more. Sharon never broke down, only Aaron, only Justin’s sympathetic, sweet boy who liked horror movies and cuddles. Sharon was a cold exterior, until she wasn’t, until Aaron started drifting through the seedy side of town at late hours of the night and going places Justin had only heard warnings about. 

Aaron needed the coldness of a hard expression and a pale powdered face to get through the hatred and hypocrisy of the real world. At least, he needed that until he started dating Justin, and his beautiful boy coached him through daily life in a way Sharon never could. Then, Justin left in the same way Aaron had, and he had to find comfort in other things, less than beautiful things. 

He had always cursed and found dark humor entertaining, but now, he had WOW breathing down his neck. It almost felt like a challenge: how far could he push their limits before they found a new Sharon? How many times could he blow off meet and greets and show up intoxicated? Aaron didn’t know when he crossed the line. Sharon knew but didn’t care. Sharon made him invincible, free from hatred. Then, shows got fewer and far between, and the bottles littered the hallways, and his clothes never seemed to stay on a full evening.

He felt like a coward at first for giving in. He told himself Justin would never do what he was doing. Justin was brave and strong and never let himself get tainted by the things that called to Sharon. Aaron knew it was wrong, but Sharon took too much work to paint and perform. Other things were so much easier, and Sharon just made him remember things. He liked to forget about the past, before he had Justin and a will to live.

Soon, his boyfriend returned to the small town and Pennsylvania with a makeup box, a week’s worth of tears, and no money. The night Aaron went up to New York to meet him was a sad one. The line was completely washed away like old eyeliner, and nobody else knew but them. Sharon was in the driver’s seat that night, and Alaska was high off living. Sharon was high off other things, things passed around backstage and offered to Justin. Justin said no, Alaska couldn’t help but say yes because the alcohol distorted the pain of returning home in shame.

“What happened to you, Justin?” Sharon slurred in their joint dressing room. “You’re not the same.”

“You did, you ruined me. I could’ve been amazing! I could’ve won if you hadn’t last year!” Justin would never accuse Aaron like that, but Alaska was drunk and upset and nothing felt better than seeing Sharon’s face crumble.

Maybe Justin sounded stupid, blaming his boyfriend for something he couldn’t control. He had always gotten off on attention, and there was something about having Aaron’s complete and undivided gaze that made him feel powerful.

Cherry lips formed a thin line as Sharon, also drunk and upset, formulated a response. She wasn’t thinking about Justin and his pet names and perfect smiles, just Alaska and how their relationship had been dying for months before Alaska left.

Justin would have screamed at Alaska if he could and if he was in the right state of mind to do so. All he could think about was how Sharon was always gone even before he left for six months. All he wanted was to take his anger out on somebody, so he did.

Looking back, Sharon would always admit to herself that she could have prevented what came next, but maybe she couldn’t. Maybe the whole ordeal was inevitable.

“I made you!” She claimed, swinging her arms to gesture around. “You wouldn’t know fame or stardom if I hadn’t given it to you! Everything you are is because of me. You’re nothing Alaska, nothing without me.”

Full of pent up aggression, Alaska swung her bony yet slightly muscular arm in a vicious right hook, “I hate you! Liar!”

She started crying, but the sobs held back as her fist made contact with Sharon’s face. It was the rare kind of crying where silent, hot tears fell, and sobs waited from the edge. Heels off and makeup still flawless, both were determined to win. Nobody wins a fight like that. Those words would linger in their heads for years after.

Sharon was more toned, but she hadn’t been in a real fight since the sixth grade. Both out of practice and stamina, they nearly collapsed after twenty minutes of clawing, punching, kicking, and screaming. Neither willing to admit defeat, it was Sharon’s heartless voice that broke the silence, a harsh cry from Aaron’s adoring tone he usually took with Justin. However, she wasn’t Aaron and this wasn’t Justin. Not anymore. If the lines were smeared and crooked before, tonight they had been erased. Somehow, Aaron’s head ended up smashed into a coffee table, and Justin nearly crumpled to the ground in terror.

“Get out.”

Alaska wasn’t shocked. Maybe Justin would’ve been, but the blonde princess who was in and out of control at the same time merely smoothed her dress and wiped away the sweat collecting at her temples.

It was later, in a hotel lobby where Alaska allowed herself to break down. In interviews throughout the following years, she would liken it to a “Tina Turner moment.” But in the real world, her eyeshadow was smeared and dripping, and Justin would later recall the surprised look on the manager’s face as she requested a room.

“I’m sorry, sir,” came the questioning voice, “we’re nearly booked.”

“I just got into a fight, I need a room. Please, I can pay you tomorrow,” begged the broken queen.

“Fine, I’ll see what we can do.”

She did get a room that night. Normally, after about three makeup wipes, Justin took over. On this occasion, only the mirror could have told Justin from Alaska. The large brown contacts were pulled out and placed haphazardly in the case that luckily had been in the bag Alaska had taken with her.

In the dim lighting, she almost looked ghostly. She felt dead and sad and still partly angry. Justin slipped out cautiously to peek through his noticeably shorter lashes.

“Why did I do that?” He sobbed into his dress, not caring if it stained. “I miss you, Aaron.”

When asked about that night, Alaska laughed everything off and concealed that moment in front of the mirror. She conveniently forgot about what happened after the fight, how she mumbled apologies to the wallpaper and pretended Aaron could hear. His brief sadness was covered by Alaska’s pure confidence. She informed him Sharon was asking for it, and he agreed because Sharon probably was, but Aaron wasn’t. Aaron was just upset because he wanted his boyfriend to do well, and he didn’t, Justin told himself.

On the other side of the city, Sharon was drowning her sorrows and insecurities in a bottle. Or maybe three.

“I’m closing up soon, Shar.” The bartender, an old friend, alerted her. “You need to leave now. I’ll drive you to your hotel if you want.”

A quiet grunt was the only response he received from the hunched over figure.

“Alright, girlie, let’s go. Up and at ‘em,” he encouraged, heaving the groaning boy onto his feet.

“‘Lasky? That you? Come back. Why? ‘Cause I miss you,” Sharon held a one sided conversation with herself until she was placed in the passenger seat.

Promptly falling asleep, she was delivered to her hotel by some miracle.

The next morning, hangovers were nursed and gorgeous girls became broken boys. At least, on the outside, they were different. Sweatpants and t-shirts replaced a sequined gown and an expensive suit. Long wigs were shoved in bags in lieu of natural locks.

They moved on. Both had their fair share of appearances and gigs to perform their heart out, yet neither had anyone to go home to. Sharon returned to her small apartment that was missing everything that made it theirs. Alaska’s polaroids had been taken down, the pictures of them smiling and in love. Fitting, Sharon mused when she returned to find them gone, how all mentions of their love and relationship had disappeared overnight.

If any overly curious fans happened to notice the lack of selfies together on their social media or how neither seemed to speak of the other anymore, both easily smiled and waved off the rumors with quick wit and charming humor. That was how they lived, Sharon and Alaska, in the early dusk, on stages of brightly lit clubs, night to night without thinking about anyone else. On the other hand, Aaron and Justin couldn’t get the other out of their heads. The only way to forget besides copious amounts of alcohol was to play a character who didn’t recall any Aaron or Justin or past relationship that crumbled to pieces in the span of one night. Some topics were avoidable.

They didn’t interact until five months later when work brought them together. One producer who clearly had no idea the two had broken up placed them in the same dressing room and the same performance.

“Your heels look so pretty, Alaska,” simpered one of the assistants.

A curt nod was given in response as the beautiful girl turned her half closed lids to the pale ghoulish girl in the corner.

Unbeknownst to her, Aaron was having an internal conflict on whether or not he should meet Alaska’s large doe eyes. Sharon was icy and venomous, so any thought of gazing at her former partner was quickly shot down.

“Sharon and Alaska, we need you on stage in five for rehearsal!”

After an entire hour of critiques and compliments from choreographers and stage hands, the show was almost ready.

“You should hold your pose longer on that last eight count,” Sharon mutters softly.

Alaska’s eyes flicker from the floor to her face and back again, “Okay.”

It’s awkward until the set finishes four hours later. The two are happily cheering in their dressing room without thinking about the suppressed pain that will follow sometime later that night.

“That was amazing, I love you!” Sharon exclaimed as they spun around the room.

Alaska faltered, and Justin took over, “Okay, I’m just going to wipe my makeup off now.”

His words were quiet and defeated, like he knew Aaron didn’t mean it; Sharon was just in control, and Sharon had no filter.

“Don’t overdose tonight,” Justin’s words were meant as a joking warning to the depressed person beside him, reminiscent of the old days, but when it came from Alaska’s mouth, it was scathing and bitter.

Sharon nodded while Aaron screamed on the inside. Just like Alaska had on that fateful night, she grabbed her bags and fled.

After that, Alaska had more appearances and accumulated more wealth. Sharon did not. She stayed at dead end gigs that paid little money and forced her to deal with annoying patrons. She went home alone with a bottle, slept easily, and remembered how fame tasted. She poured over articles that mentioned her, Sharon, as Alaska’s ex, not the other way around. If Alaska had known she was hurting in this way, she wouldn’t have done anything because Sharon did it to herself. That was the jaded front the girl needed to stop the emotions from pouring out every time she looked at Sharon’s phone number.

Sharon found Chad while Aaron was still coping with the loss of his best friend. Chad was decent to him, and he liked his easygoing personality. They never fought and always agreed. Sometimes it got boring. Sometimes Chad went away for long periods of time, and Aaron was reminded of a blonde he used to know. Along the way, he stopped excessively drinking, but withdrawal hit him hard.

“I met someone else.”

Chad had directed his words at the kitchen table one morning. Maybe it was to spare Aaron pain or to avoid the anger that would follow.

“Alright, I’ll get my things.”

It was Chad’s house since Aaron had sold the little apartment in Pittsburgh. He collected his belongings and wondered where he would go. Having been a fleeting star that some considered timeless, he had a long list of connections he could call to house him for a night. Above all, he didn’t want to be alone.

“Justin, I know we haven’t spoken for a while, but call me back.”

It was a wild shot, calling Alaska or Justin or whoever she was at the moment, but it was one worth taking. He drove to the nicely paved street with townhomes and expensive apartments in LA where Justin’s friend had told Sharon he lived once.

One knock on the door, and Alaska swung it open, “Finally happened?”

“Yeah,” Sharon shrugged.

“He was a jerk anyway,” Alaska nodded, ignoring Aaron’s wince.

“Missed you.”

“Liar.”

“Little bit.”

“Not even.”

“Hypocrite.”

“How?”

“You missed me.”

“Maybe. I made the guest bed.”

“Down the hall?”

“Yeah.”

The short conversation was over as soon as it started. Justin made a cup of tea and rested his head.

“You’ve changed, Lasky,” Aaron informed him later that day as both boys were applying makeup.

“No, I haven’t, Sharon,” he sounded out the syllables.

“Wearing makeup before sundown? Justin would never.”

“Life changes, I caught up. Why didn’t you?”

Aaron always knew how to get under his skin, and Sharon must have picked up that skill over time, “I’m always evolving. You changed your technique.”

“Yeah, I guess I did. You have your own bathroom, you know,” Alaska pointed out.

“It reminds me of old times this way, watching you paint.”

“Did Chad kick you out for good?”

“Probably.”

“Oh. I have a gig tonight. Meet and greet with some fans.”

“Fun. Can I tag along?”

“I guess so. Every-everyone knows about us now,” Justin explained, throwing his makeup bag into the cabinet.

They sped through traffic in five inch heels without talking. 

“Bianca, Shangela, nice to see you guys,” Alaska drawled.

“Somebody has to keep her in check,” Shangela hummed, shaking her head at the other girl in the dressing room.

Always ready with a comeback, Bianca chortled, “Go stuff yourself in a box, tiny.”

They returned to placing eyelashes and snipping lace fronts.

“Hey, Shar, is Chad coming to the show tonight?”

“He doesn’t even know about it, so no,” she spoke to Shangela but directed the comment more towards Alaska.

“Oh, well tell him we said hey.”

Aaron would’ve left the room, but Sharon simply nodded and agreed. Alaska was confident and aloof to the awkward tension filling the room.

“Bianca, that’s my good wig!” Shangela shouted. “Don’t put it on the floor!”

The taller one rolled her eyes, “It was never good, Shangie.”

“Still,” she reclaimed the aforementioned wig.

Sharon outlined her lips in black before shading her eyes in as well. 

“Hey, Lasky, can we talk?” She asked hopefully.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Justin, I-“

“Alaska,” the scathing remark came.

Sharon recovered quickly, “Right.”

“What do you want, Sharon?” She breathed, exasperated. “Can’t you save this until after the show?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, that’s fine.”

Alaska retreated to the dressing room while Sharon slumped next to the door, alone and feeling forgotten.

“Lasky doesn’t need me anymore,” she smeared her eyeliner on the back of her hands, but it didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered if she didn’t have Alaska by her side. She didn’t care if it was simply as a friend. She’d settle for acquaintances if only she could get her pretty girl to smile again.

“Alaska, you’re on deck!” A stage hand called. “Bianca, you’re on.”

She saw a shimmer of pink glittery fabric before the best thing in her life floated away to perform.

“Sharon, get up, this is pathetic, even for you,” Bianca folded her arms.

“You don’t understand.”

“Yes, I do. For now, just get up and watch me tell some bad jokes.”

Reluctantly, the gothic girl stood up and waited behind the curtains for Bianca to finish. She was regretting even coming to the show. She wondered if it was too late to back out.

“Alright, ladies, gentlemen, and whatever else,” a chorus of hoots from intoxicated crowd members followed, “put your hands together for a legendary performer, my sister, the wonderful Alaska! And, no, I was definitely not pay-paled $10,000 to say that.”

The blonde stepped out to an upbeat, techno song that could be felt through the walls.

“Hiiiiieeee! My name’s yours, what’s Alaska?” She breathed into the microphone.

The crowd cheered loudly for her, more than they ever had for Sharon, she bitterly mused from her spot in the shadows. She left. Before Bianca or anyone else could stop her, Sharon collected her bags and left. It was a short walk back to Alaska’s place, one that felt wrong to her. The others would wonder where she went, but it hardly mattered. If she was lucky, there would be a decent bar down the street. She could change and get drunk before Alaska got home. That would be the dream, Sharon chuckled.

Alaska did return at about two in the morning. The lights were off and snoring could be distinctly heard from the dining room where Sharon was sprawled out on the floor.

“Oh, Sharon, why do you do this to yourself?”

Preparing an aspirin and hauling Sharon to the couch, Alaska let herself finally relax from a long night.

“Lasky, is that you?” Sharon called an hour later, much more sober than she had been before Alaska came home.

“Here, swallow this and drink some water,” the curt response was punctuated by the ceiling light flickering on.

“No. You can’t make me do anything.”

“I swear to God, Sharon!” Alaska huffed.

“Alaska, I’m just joking around.”

Satisfied, both fell back into a casual silence.

“You should take your makeup off.”

“Sharon, I’m fine.”

“Your pores are gonna clog.”

“Okay.”

Alaska took Sharon’s advice and wiped the remains of her face away. It didn’t matter anymore whether Sharon was there or not, because Alaska was too broken from that night so long ago.

“You know what I’ve been telling people in interviews?” Justin slumped into the armchair beside the tv.

Sharon faked a smile and lied through her teeth, “No, pray tell.”

“That we’re still...friends...we’re not,” Justin’s voice shook, causing awkward pauses.

“Oh, I thought we were best friends,” Sharon’s silliness concealed Aaron’s real fear, that Justin truly hated him.

“No, we’re not. But I’ve said my piece, let’s hear yours.”

“Okay. I was just thinking about finding a place to live now. Do you have any recommendations?”

“That’s all? Certainly, there’s a full block of apartments opening two miles away.”

Sharon was always good at lying, and Justin was always great at deducing when she was. It made for an honest relationship until Aaron started lying and then Alaska, and soon, nobody was telling the truth. Justin remembered how it started, the pain and anguish of Sharon leaving for half a year and returning a shell of her former self. Even Aaron had changed over time. Aaron stopped showing up, and Sharon didn’t care as long as she was drinking.

Later, Justin would recall the night on the couch as the day Sharon broke. Aaron would remember it quite differently because in his opinion, he was always shattered, a clustered mess of glass that would never be repaired. Sharon was whole, complete. She glued him together for just a night, and it was addicting. Then, Sharon had to leave because she was always just a character, and the show had to end at some point. 

Aaron would recall that as the night Alaska froze. The bright star in his tragic life turned into a beaten down individual that rolled her eyes more than smiled and Britney Spears’ed her voice until it was unrecognizable to Aaron. 

By either account, both called that night the true end of their relationship. Not the scene in the dressing room or the months of separation after. No, it was instead the eight hours spent in each other’s arms, wound together tightly yet so far apart. It was the morning after when Sharon went back to Chad, and Aaron barely glanced back at the vulnerable boy curled into himself. It was eleven o’clock that same morning when Justin called himself foolish and let Alaska take over because she could handle the pain of a broken heart. It was when Sharon said she loved Chad, and Justin said he’d never love anyone again and wasn’t lying. 

Yes, it was that night indeed when they called their relationship the dead dandelion whose seeds had floated away long ago and whose stem was just then deciding to bend against the harsh winds.


End file.
